Galaxian Squadron
by Halley Kadorto
Summary: One pilot's account of his chance at making it into Rogue Squadron.


Halley's POV  
  
"Galaxian One!" I called through the comlink frequency. Sweat was dripping down my face, on my hands, everywhere. I was afraid it may cause me to drop the control stick of my X-wing, and not be able to recover in time if a fall occurred. The leader of the squadron responded.  
  
"Galaxian One here, go ahead Galaxian Three!"  
  
I swallowed, and slowly spoke the words, "I read another squadron of Eyeballs coming in about five klicks away, sir! What are your orders?"  
  
There was a brief pause. I knew Major Koepode was trying to decide on out next course of action. So far we had gone up against three squadrons. One of Eyeballs, another of Squints, and before this next batch of eyeballs, a fairly easy squadron of Uglies.  
  
Only five of us remained in Galaxian Squadron. We were dropping like illness-stricken mynocks!  
  
"Have Twelve and Nine provide cover for the transports, you, I, and Four will attack head-on!" the Major broke the eerie silence.  
  
I wiped my brow. "Understood!"  
  
Major Koepode, I, and Galaxian Four, who was also my best friend, Jaren "Crossfire" Hailfyre, swept around in a tight angle to intercept the TIE Fighters.  
  
I could make out their basic shapes even from the distance we had between us.  
  
"Hey, Halley?" a voice called through the frequency. Again I made a clean sweep of my brow.  
  
"Ya, Crossfire?" I grinned, trying to keep my tone of voice as serious as I could.  
  
"Good luck! Y'all come back now, ya hear!?" he shouted in a pitiful western accent. I chuckled.  
  
"Keep it serious! That's an order!" Koepode interjected. I straightened out best I could in the cockpit of my sleek X-wing fighter.  
  
[TIE Fighters, now exactly two klicks away] my droid translator read.  
  
"Thanks for the statistics, Aztro," I gave a small smile.  
  
[You're quite welcome, sir]  
  
"Halley! I said keep is serious!" Koepode interrupted again.  
  
"Yessir."  
  
"They're firing! Evasive maneuvers!" shouted Crossfire at the top of his lungs. I watched as his X-wing swerved to the right, violently, to get out of the way of the oncoming green streaks of light. To my surprise, his sudden loss of control didn't stop, and his fighter continued to tumble and swerve out into deep space. A few TIEs broke off from the main group to go after him.  
  
"I'm gonna help him!" I called, not expecting anyone to comply.  
  
"Galaxian Three! Stay in formation! We have to protect these transports!" The Major called. I sighed, and discontinued my sudden turn to join him again in the interception.  
  
The Imperial ships continued to fire at us, but we both managed to keep our cool and avoid getting hit.  
  
"Permission to fire back," I asked, getting quite bored with just dodging.   
  
"Permission granted, just be careful, Lieutenant!"  
  
I shot off a few quick shots and replied, "Thank you sir!"  
  
The few shots I managed to get out missed the remaining TIEs completely, but my next batch of four took two of the shieldless ships down in a fiery inferno hurtling through empty space.  
  
"HA! That's two more to paint on my fuselage!"   
  
Major Koepode met my success by knocking down two fighters as well, using minimal shots.  
  
"Touchet, Major!"  
  
"Go help Crossfire now, I can take the last six with no trouble!" the Major was obviously trying to get rid of me. I smiled.  
  
"Yes sir!" I reluctantly said, turning my ship away slowly. "Aztro, give me a location on Galaxian Four." Behind me, I could hear the little Artoo unit chitter away, trying to pinpoint Crossfire's location.  
  
[Galaxian Four no longer appears on the radar. Location search impossible] My mouth gaped open.  
  
[I]Crossfire is gone? Impossible...we're the two best hotshots in the squadron![/I]  
  
"Major," I started, my tone down and soft, "Crossfire is gone, it's up to the four of us to stop the rest of the Imperial resistance."  
  
"Don't bother, Halley!" Galaxian Twelve, also known as Nevlan Dansor, shouted through the weak frequency, "the mission is over! The transports got out safely and the Major stopped the last of the TIE Squadron!"  
  
I breathed the biggest sigh I could muster with the energy I had left. "Galaxian Three understood! Computer, end simulation!"  
  
On command, the scene outside my cockpit vanished, and in it's place was the famous New Republic Emblem. I was glad to come to the realization again that the whole mission was a simulation.  
  
I waited patiently as the cockpit canopy finally agreed to open. I climbed out and took a breath of nice fresh air, instead of the now musty and filthy air I was breathing in the simulator cockpit just a few seconds before.  
  
To my left was Crossfire's simulator. His was open, and empty. I looked a little further to the left, and quickly caught him trying to jimmy open a snack machine on the far wall.  
  
[I]That's why they call him Crossfire! Cause he's always caught in it! The Major should catch him in about three...two...one...[/I]  
  
As if on cue, Major Koepode emerged from behind his simulator, and tapped the preoccupied pilot on the shoulder. I tried to hold back a laugh.  
  
I didn't wait around to hear how long the Major would sentence Crossfire to janitor duties for, and I left for my quarters.  
  
All down the halls, pilots from my squadron would pass by me and congratulate me on surviving the toughest simulator run Major Koepode had thrown out at us yet. I shrugged it off as mere luck.  
  
My quarters were on the third floor of a training academy on the renowned planet, Coruscant. I had long since been promoted from being a trainee, but the New Republic didn't seem to have any use for our relatively new squadron.  
  
Galaxian Squadron was formed on the basis of being the runners-up for new Rogue Squadron members. I was thrilled by the chance of making it to Rogue Squadron someday, and fly alongside the best pilots the New Republic had to offer.  
  
All of the pilots in Galaxian were really good, in my opinion. Every one of them, including me, had the best chance of making it there some day. At least, I hope we all would some day...  
  
"Lieutenant Kadorto!" I heard a voice call. I swung around, a little apprehensively. There stood Lieutenant Chalaine Spiraei. I nearly fell over, stunned at her beauty. She had shoulder-length brown hair, which flowed in the most elegant manner. Her eyes were like green diamonds, that always glistened, even in the dark. It seemed like everything about her was perfect, except her piloting skills...in that department, she was a dunce, I had [I]no[/I] idea how she made it into Galaxian Squadron, or the New Republic for that matter...  
  
"H-hi Shally," I bit my lip.  
  
"Nice work in the sim today, Hail," she said in a smooth tone also giving a faint yet cute smile. I nearly lost my balance again.  
  
"Thanks...you too..." I slicked my right hand through my soft, but currently sweaty brown hair.  
  
"Me? Hardly! I was the first one to go! Stupid TIEs..." she remarked. I tried to give a comforting smile.  
  
"Hey, if you're not busy, do you want to have a cup of caf, or even lunch together some time this week? I mean if you're not busy..."  
  
She squinted at me strangely. "You're asking me out on a date?"  
  
I choked, "Uh...no?"  
  
She sighed, turned around, and puffed off in the other direction. I stood there for a few seconds, very confused.  
  
[I]Stange woman she is...[/I]  
  
I set myself to turn around to once again head for my quarters, but another voice called my name. I knew who it was even before they called.  
  
"Hey Crossfire? How long ya gonna be doing janitor duty this time?"  
  
The human, black haired, brown eyed pilot stopped running and crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
  
"You know me all too well, Hail!" he attempted to hide a smile, but my attempting to hide one too caused us both to burst out in light chuckles.  
  
"Come on, I'll buy ya some Twi'lek brandy down in the cafeteria!" he said after we had both finally calmed down. I nodded and followed him down the long and dimly lit corridor.  
  
We reached the rusted doors of downtime sooner than I had estimated. Of course, I was a terrible estimator so it didn't really make a difference...  
  
We both stood in front of the massive doors, and watched as they slowly creaked open, alerted to our presence. Within I could see all the members of our squadron.  
  
In the very back, sitting alone, was Chalaine. She tended to always be by herself, and most members of the squadron respected that.   
  
In the table just opposite hers, was Nevlan Dansor. He was a heavy set Rodian, with a strangely peaceful attitude. He was chatting with a Twi'lek female named Kana Mor.   
  
Directly to my right, sipping some strong Corellian whiskey, was Meff Duke, a human from Corellia. He was madly in love with Chalaine, but always seemed to keep his distance.  
  
Standing up near the bar table, was the troublemaker of the squadron, Rykoff Cakton. He, like Crossfire, was always in trouble, and the two always tended to have janitor duty at the same time.  
  
Also standing at the bar, but far away from Rykoff. Was probably our most unique member. Konlabba Jod. Konlabba was, oddly enough, a Wookie. Standing well over six feet tall, he carried a translator which he almost never forgot, because no one in the squadron could understand his strange growls and roars. He was an excellent pilot, and most pilots in the squadron suspected he was somehow related to the infamous Chewbacca.  
  
He was talking with Major Koepode. Koepode was a Bothan male. He was of average height, for Bothans, and always kept a stern personality. Most of the squadron, including me, admired his sense of leadership, and the fact that he always kept his cool in battle.  
  
All huddled together in the left corner of the small bar, were Tay "Ace" Bokoe; a Thakwaash female, Xolan Lep; a Gand female, and Dordan Zeec; a human female. They were always huddled together, spreading gossip among themselves. Both Crossfire and I saw them talking, and mimicked their chatter by pretending to talk by moving our lips as fast as we possible could, and bobbing our heads up and down in an odd manner. Luckily, the three didn't notice our antics.  
  
Crossfire began to proceed to the bar, and I quickly followed. He took a seat on the closest bar stool, which also happened to be fairly close to where Rykoff was standing, and I obliged by sitting to Crossfire's immediate left.  
  
"Just give me and my friend here two Corellian Whiskeys," my friend said, leaning over to tap the closest bartender on the shoulder. The bartender let out a grunt and went to off fulfill Crossfire's request.  
  
I smiled, "the bartenders love ya, huh?"  
  
"Well..." Crossfire shrugged, not giving me direct eye contact, "they seem happy with the way I scrub the restroom floors." I snickered.   
  
Just then, I felt something brush up against my flight suit pant leg. Slowly turning around, I looked down to see Aztro. He was a cute little Artoo unit with blue and green splotches scattered about, and most of his outer coverings were white, like most standard Artoos.  
  
"Hey, little guy!" I raised my voice. He bleeped.  
  
"After all this time, you still have that little thing?" asked Crossfire, sounding slightly disgusted. I turned and gave him a long hard stare, somewhat perplexed but trying not to show it.  
  
"Ya, I still have that 'little thing.' Why? What's it to ya?"  
  
"Aw, I've gone through nearly half a dozen droids since I've been in the New Republic, and you've had the same one since you were five!" he remarked quickly. I grinned.  
  
"You've gone through five X-wings too, haven't you? The New Republic might decide to deny you another one if you keep it up!" he smiled deceptively.  
  
"I was right, you know me all too well, Hail! That's worth two drinks easy!"  
  
I turned back to Aztro, who hadn't moved a centimeter since I noticed his arrival. Without warning, however, one of his compartments sprang open. Frightened by the movement, I lost my balance on the barstool and fell backwards, hitting my back against the bar table. I slammed my hands on the side of the counter, hoping I wouldn't fall again, but it didn't work, and I fell back further to the floor, with my legs between the bar stool pole, and my hands stuck under my bottom side. I winced in slight pain.  
  
Rykoff and Crossfire were first to arrive to help me up. I smiled pitifully.  
  
"Man! Your droid was just trying to give you a datapad. You're jumpy!" Rykoff said, trying to hold back a laugh, and grabbing my arm to help me up. I gave him a sarcastic smile. Around me, I could hear the other pilots of the squadron chatting away, almost as if nothing had happened. It didn't bother me any.  
  
I was soon back on my feet, and I rubbed my left hand which was burning slightly. Looking back at Aztro, I saw the same compartment, still open, with a datapad sticking out of it.  
  
I stopped rubbing my hand and bent down to retrieve the outstretched device. Aztro gladly handed it over to me, and once again beeped.  
  
Flipping the datapad on, a notice immediately popped up on the view screen. I skimmed the message quickly:  
  
[I]Lieutenant Kadorto,  
  
New Republic Intelligence has informed me to tell you, that you are to meet with General Wedge Antilles tomorrow at exactly 12:00 hours in the New Republic Training Plaza, building 44, room 7E on the 15th floor. The General would like to speak with you about maybe earning a spot in Rogue Squadron. I wish you luck, and hope you are fortunate enough to make it.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Major Banbote Koepode[/I]  
  
I stared at the message for the longest time. It wasn't until Crossfire smacked my on the back, to make sure I was still breathing, that I snapped back to attention.  
  
"Dude, you're freaking me out! What's going on?" he asked, acting very apprehensive. All I could do was hand over the datapad to him, I couldn't even speak. He took it from me and read it over in a flash.  
  
"So?" he asked, tossing the datapad on the countertop, and taking a swig of his drink, which had just been set down on the counter a few moments before. His reply shocked me back into talking.  
  
"What do you mean 'so'?! I could make it into Rogue Squadron! This has been my dream for so long!"  
  
"You're not going to be accepted," he said between sips. I was astonished at what he was saying.  
  
"What makes you say I won't make it?" I was becoming a little irritated.  
  
"It's just a courtesy letter. You got one, I got one, everyone in the squadron got one."  
  
"Oh yeah? Then where's yours?" He obviously knew I would ask that sooner or later, and he quickly brought out a datapad from his back pocket and tossed it to me. As he had said, it was the same message, just with his name at the top. I gave another pitiful smile, and blushed slightly. He snickered and took another sip of his refreshment.  
  
Still very embarrassed, I hunched myself over the bar, and took a sip of the strong alcohol.   
  
"It's ok, dude. It happens to the best of us." My friend patted me on the shoulder reassuringly. I rolled my eyes, and continued to finish my beverage.  
  
The next day  
  
[I]Oh no! I'm late![/I] The meeting with General Antilles was set to start in about two minutes, and it would take me at least five to make it to the designated meeting spot. I ran to building 44 faster then I had ever run before.  
  
I reached the automatic doors, and didn't wait for them to open completely. The result was my banging my shoulder against it, but I tried not to let the pain bother me.   
  
[I]The lifts will take too long to get down here, I better take the stairs![/I]  
  
I rushed to the stair corridor, and began the long trek up to the fifteenth floor. Each step seemed easy at first, but once I had gotten to the fifth floor, I was beat. I switched between a light jog, and a slow walk the rest of the way, forgetting that the meeting had started nearly two minutes ago.  
  
I had finally reached the fifteenth floor. The meeting had started ten minutes before. I figured it was too late, and began to turn around to go back.  
  
"Halley, wait!" a voice shouted. It was a voice I didn't recognize, so I decided to turn around and try my luck. I turned to see a tall man, with brown hair, wearing a general's uniform. I stood at immediate attention.  
  
"General, my apologies." I boomed out the sentence.  
  
"At ease, Lieutenant." Said the General, giving a faint smile which I almost didn't catch. I did as he ordered. He continued,  
  
"You realize you're late for our appointment." My mouth gaped open. It was becoming a bad habit.  
  
"Y-you're General Antilles?" my voice quivered violently. He chuckled.  
  
"Who did you think I was, Admiral Ackbar?" I gave a smile out of the corner of my lip. "Come on inside," he continued, "we can start the meeting now."  
  
I could feel my smile broaden as he opened the door to room 7E, and waved me inside.  
  
The room was quite small, with an oversize desk to the left, with a nice big comfortable-looking leather chair behind it. To the right, was a small plastic chair, that looked like it would collapse if anything over ten pounds was put on it. I went over and sat in it anyway, moving down slowly, and not setting all my weight down on it. I didn't plan to make a fool out of myself in front of General Antilles!  
  
The eminent man sat down in the large leather chair, and rested his elbows on the brown mahogany desk, interlacing his fingers once he had achieved a comfortable position. For some reason, I gulped.  
  
"Well, Lieutenant," Wedge started, "I've been looking over your files, and you have an outstanding record."  
  
I tried not to smile, "Thank you sir."  
  
"Rogue Squadron could definitely use a pilot of your talents." He continued. I got so excited, I pushed all me weight onto the chair. It gave a giant crack, and crumbled beneath me. I went tumbling to the floor.  
  
"Don't bother worrying about the chair," General Antilles said, while I was stumbling back up, "I was hoping someone would break it anyway."  
  
"Um.yes sir," I said, once I had finally gotten back upright and was once again standing at attention. He motioned for me to go back to a more informal stance.  
  
"At this time, Rogue Squadron could use you, but if you were to join now, it would take nearly a month for the transfer to take effect."  
  
"I understand sir," I saluted, "I wish to join, I don't care if I'd have to wait a year and survive a battle with a rancor, I'd be willing to do it all."  
  
"Lieutenant," Wedge said, shrugging his shoulders back.  
  
"Yessir?"  
  
"Stop sucking up, you're in the squadron."  
  
I cleared my throat, "yessir," He then stood up.  
  
"Welcome to Rogue Squadron, Lieutenant Kadorto, I'll see you again in a month."  
  
"Thank you sir," I again saluted. He smiled, and motioned for me to leave. I began to turn around, but a question arose that I knew I had to ask.  
  
"General Antilles?" I asked, trying to get his attention back to me. He was reading a datapad.  
  
"Yes, Lieutenant?" he asked, not bothering to look up at me.  
  
"One of my squadron mates, Lieutenant Jaren Hailfyre, told me that he had received a notice from you too, about joining Rogue Squadron, and it was at the same time as mine. Did you talk to him already?"  
  
"Lieutenant Hailfyre?" Wedge now looked up at me, squinting, "no, I sent out no such message to him. I know who you're referring to however. An excellent pilot, but my pilots waste enough X-wings as it is, I don't think New Republic Intelligence would permit me to put in another 'Immolator of X-wings' as the New Republic likes to say."  
  
I nodded, "Thank you sir, that's all I needed to know." He smiled and went back to looking at his datapad, I didn't wait for him to motion me off a second time.  
  
[I]The sooner I get Crossfire another week of janitor duty for lying, the better.[/I]  
  
2 days later, early morning  
  
"Attention! Attention! All pilots to their X-wings. Repeat! All pilots to their X-wings!"  
  
I shot up quickly, banging my head on the backboard of my small bed. I don't know quite how I managed to do that either.  
  
Aztro was in the center of the room, beeping wildly. I tried to avoid him on the way to my dress, but on the way, he turned, causing me to trip over his right tripod leg. I groaned once I had hit the ground, but quickly got up again alerted to the warning klaxons.  
  
Snagging a clean flightsuit, I put it on quickly, and threw my boots on too.  
  
"Come on, Aztro! Let's get moving!" he obliged, and followed me out the door.  
  
We reached the hangar within seconds. I caught Chalaine out of the corner of my eye, and rushed over to her.  
  
"What's going on?" I panted. She gave me a disgusted look.  
  
"Don't you know anything? A few transports above the planet are under attack by some mercenaries flying TIE Defenders! We're being sent out to stop them!"  
  
She climbed up her boarding ladder before I could question her further. I knew I didn't have time to ask anything else anyway, and shot off for my own X-wing.  
  
[I]TIE Defenders,this is going to be rough![/I]  
  
I quickly climbed aboard and began to do a quick skim of my systems. They all appeared to be nominal. At the same time, I could hear Aztro being placed in his compartment directly behind me.  
  
"Galaxian Four to Galaxian Three!" my comlink sprang to life, startling me enough to throw my helmet in the air. It landed back on my lap with a thump.  
  
"Galaxian Three here, what's up Crossfire?"  
  
"Good luck!" Jaren responded. I smiled, while shoving my helmet on over my head.  
  
"Same to you!"  
  
My engines hummed to life at the touch of a button on my control panel. Major Koepode spoke.  
  
"This is Galaxian One, all other wings report in!"  
"Galaxian Two, standing by!" shouted Chalaine.  
"Galaxian Three, ready!" I said, as seriously as I could. I heard Crossfire chuckle through the com though. I grinned.  
"Galaxian Four, in the green!" Crossfire remembered to shout.  
"Galaxian Five, standing by!" exclaimed Konlabba through his mechanical translating device.  
"Gal six! Here!" said Rykoff, very informally.  
"Galaxian Seven, standing by!" replied Tay.  
"Galaxian Eight, ready as I'll ever be!" said Dordan quickly.  
"Galaxian Nine, ready and waiting!" called Meff, sounding a little apprehensive.  
"Galaxian Ten, standing by!" said Xolan, also a little apprehensively.  
"Galaxian Eleven, standing by!" answered Kana.  
"Galaxian Twelve, here and ready!" shouted the Rodian, Nevlan Dansor.  
  
The Major barked out some more orders, "Take off as soon as you're ready. We don't have much time before those marauders take down our transports. Just get out there, team up with your wingmate and hoard them off!"  
  
We all shouted in unison, except Rykoff, who deliberately said it immediately after we were finished, "Yessir!"  
  
Of course, Major Koepode was the first one out of the bay, immediately followed by Nevlan. A few others hovered out a few seconds later. Crossfire and I left next, leaving about three other squadronmates behind, but they followed shortly.  
  
I felt a great sensation of freedom as I soared off into the bright sky. But trouble was brewing just about the atmosphere, I tried to maintain a serious attitude.  
  
When my fighter reached deep space, I could make out three Corellian Corvettes slowly zigzagging all about, with tiny green streaks flying all about. I was too far away to see my quarry, but I knew they were there.  
  
"Hey buddy!" shouted Crossfire over the comlink, "don't forget to lock your S-foils!"  
  
"Oh, right,"I shook my head, "I don't know what I'd do without you, Crossfire!" I flicked a switch on my tactical dashboard. The four S-foils sprang to life, opening at a mediocre speed. When they were done opening, my laser crosshair appeared on my multiview display. My lasers were powered up and ready.  
  
We slowly edged closer to the raging marauder raid. I could now make out a few of the Defenders out in the distance. Thumbing a button on my pilot yoke, I watched as my targeting computer flicked on, and locked on to the closest target. Sure enough, it was a Defender.  
  
"Crossfire, I have a lock on a TIE Defender. Callsign, Immolator Three. It's shields are at ninety-seven percent, and gradually rising. It's carrying no cargo. I'll bet all the Defenders are doing as well as him." I reported to my friend.  
  
"Taking that into account," he pondered over the com, "what should be our first course of action?"  
  
I immediately responded, "I suggest we try a missile lock. It might scare them into more erratic behavior, and that sometimes can ruin a pilots accuracy."  
  
"I dunno, Hail,it could increase their accuracy. They could get a rush out of missile locks for all we know, enticing them to try harder at aiming."  
  
"Good point, let's just shoot 'em down!" I didn't think twice about my remark. Shooting down targets with old fashioned lasers was what Crossfire and I did best.  
  
After a few seconds we were almost within firing range. I hit the same button on my flight stick, to see if Immolator Three was still the closest target, he was. By this time, Major Koepode had entered the battle. We had yet to hear any communications from him.  
  
"Almost there, buddy!" Crossfire was a little eager to fight, I could tell. I smiled.  
  
"Righto, Cross!" I shouted back. We traveled for another few seconds.  
  
"Hail! Evasive maneuvers! They're firing at us!" I suddenly looked up to see a few streaks of green light shoot toward Crossfire's X-wing. None appeared to be headed for mine. I panicked.  
  
"Cross! Get out of the way! Dive! Swoop! Just get out of the way!" It was too late. One blaster bolt singed right through his wing, causing his fighter to spin out of control, just like in the simulators. I watched in horror as bolt after bolt of the green energy plummeted into his paralyzed fighter.  
  
"Crossfire!" I shouted.  
  
"It's ok!" I heard. It sounded like my friend, "just whoops their sorry butts!"  
  
I watched as one more bolt hit the nose of his snubfighter, and with that, the whole ship exploded in an incandescent ball of gas and fire. My heart sank.  
  
[I]How could they.[/I]  
  
My fist clenched over the pilot yoke, causing my own lasers to fire. I held the button down, not caring what I hit. Just about all of the bolts missed the oncoming TIEs, but a few finally hit the one I had been targeting all along,Immolator Three.  
  
I watched my targeting computer as his shield percentage slowly got lower and lower. The pilot tried to swerve, but I met his swerve with my own, continuing to slowly destroy his fighter.  
  
When the shield meter registered zero percent on my computer, the hull percentage started to go down. I didn't loosen my grip on the yoke. Pieces of shrapnel began to fall of the TIE. Then the engine exploded, sending the fighter hurtling out into deep space. A few seconds later the ship exploded, and no longer showed up on my targeting computer, showing it was a dead target. I locked onto the next closest fighter.  
  
I didn't care what the designation was. Hatred was building up inside of me.  
  
[I]They killed my best friend! They don't deserve to live![/I]  
  
"Hail! Help me!" I heard a voice shout. My hatred suddenly left, and worry entered.  
  
"Kana, what's wrong?" I recognized the voice and responded.  
  
"Nevlan is gone, and I have two TIEs on me! Help!"  
  
[I]No! Not Nevlan too![/I]  
  
"I'm on my way, Kana, try to hang on! Aztro, where is she?"  
  
[Processing] my droid responded.   
  
I waited very impatiently as he tracked down her location. Without warning, my combat display highlighted her fighter, about a klick away. I turned the pilot yoke in her direction, and hit full speed on my fighter.   
  
Sure enough, there she was, swerving out of the way of dozens of green streaks, emanating from two TIEs.  
  
My fist unconsciously hammered down on the trigger again, and I was firing away at the two Defenders. I didn't even bother to target them.  
  
"Thanks, Hail, I thou-." Her transmission was cut short. I blinked and looked back at her X-wing, my grip slowly releasing itself from the trigger. To my dismay, another Defender had secretly doubled back after I had chased the other two off, and shot at Kana's fighter. Hers exploded much in the same way as Crossfire's did. I felt a single tear trickle down my sweaty cheeks.  
  
"Aztro,how many of us are left?" I barely managed to get the words out. I didn't care about the raging battle going on around me. I just wanted him to answer the question.  
  
[Five are left. Including yourself. Galaxian Three, Galaxian Five, Galaxian Six, Galaxian Eight, and Galaxian Ten.]  
  
[I]Okay, that's me, Konlabba, Rykoff, Dordan, and Xolan.[/I]  
  
"Rykoff, you're my wing!" I was slowly forming a new battle plan in my mind. As long as all of us stayed together. I didn't get a reply from him.  
  
"Rykoff, this is no time for jokes, respond!"  
  
"He's dead, Halley!" I heard Xolan call through the comlink in a melancholy tone. Again my heart sank.   
  
"Okay,Xolan, you're my wing, let's try a missile lock!"  
  
"Wish I could, Hail, but I have three of them on my tail!" she responded.  
  
"I'm on my way!" I called. I was determined not to lose her too.  
  
"Don't bother," she started, "my shields are out, and I'm on a collision course with one of the Defenders. I'll miss ya, Halley!"  
  
"Xolan! No!" My shouts were to no avail. I turned my X-wing in time to see her X-wing slam into a Defender out of the corner viewport of my cockpit.   
  
"Dordan! Konlabba! Let's get out of here!" I slowly said while checking my scopes. We had lost all three corvettes, and nine X-wings.  
  
"Galaxian Five, returning as ordered!" I heard Konlabba's mechanical voice spurt out. I sighed in relief knowing he was still alive. Suddenly my ship rocked violently.  
  
I spun my head around in time to see a Defender behind me, swinging back and forth, firing at me. My shields wouldn't last much longer.  
  
"Hail! Ya have one on you! Get out of there! Eject! Eject!" I heard Dordan shout. She was right, I slammed my fist on the eject button. I didn't even have to look at it.  
  
The canopy of my fighter popped off, and my survival shield kicked in. It would keep my alive and warm for up to an hour out in space.  
  
Before I knew it, I was no longer in my cockpit, and I watched as the Defenders continued their no mercy attack on it. It quickly turned into total shrapnel.   
  
To my horror, I watched as a piece of the lost fighter begin to hurtle in my direction like a small meteorite going through the atmosphere.  
  
[I]It all ends here.[/I] My vision went blank, and I slipped into unconsciousness.   
  
Later, not exactly sure when  
  
I woke up, my vision blurred, and my head throbbing. All I knew was that I was lying down, on some kind of stiff table. My senses were too whacked to make out anything else.  
  
[I]Who am I?[/I] I pondered to myself for the longest time. I had no recollection of anything.  
  
"Halley, are you all right?" a voice called. I couldn't place it.  
  
I opened my eyes slowly, to see the blurred form of a man in a white coat. Obviously a doctor.  
  
"Halley?" I asked drowsily, "who's Halley?"  
  
The doctor gave me a grim look.  
  
"You don't remember anything, do you, Halley?" he asked.  
  
"No, and I suppose my name is Halley?" I asked back, my vision slowly starting to straighten out.  
  
"Yes, you're Halley Kadorto. You're a pilot for the New Republic. You were shot down in mid-combat and got hit in the head by a piece of shrapnel."  
  
Images of some kind of battle began to swarm back into my head, but I was unable to place any of them. I heard shouts and explosions in my mind. I closed my eyes in fear.  
  
"I don't remember anything but how is the rest of my squadron doing?" I asked, not opening my eyes.  
  
The doctor lowered his head slowly. "They're all dead. You were the only one that survived I'm afraid."  
  
I suddenly felt as though a hand was slowly crushing my heart. I had no idea who they were, but knowing they were all gone sent a surge of sadness flowing through my aching body.  
  
"Do you have any kind of profiles on them? I'd like to know more about my friends," I chose my words carefully.   
  
The doctor slowly nodded, and pulled a datapad out from a nearby table. I took it, and flicked it on, not bothering to sit up. I read it lying down, holding it so it hovered over me.  
  
That night I thought about all of them. Jaren, Chalaine, Nevlan, all of them. I even read up on myself.  
  
[I]My name is Lieutenant Halley Kadorto. I am a pilot in Galaxian Squadron. I have earned a Kalidor Crescent for my bravery in battle. My flying skills are nearly second to none, except to the pilots in Rogue Squadron. In one month I am set to be transferred to Rogue Squadron.[/I]  
  
"I'm going to start over...I'll be in Rogue Squadron," I whispered to myself in the stillness of the night.  
  
[I]I'll avenge my friends' death, all of them.[/I]   



End file.
